Little Teapot
by Fandom-Hopping
Summary: During a bit of cleaning up around the house, Prussia reminisces about teaching Germany the Teapot Song. Inspired by an extremely adorable tumblr post. Yes, the song is anachronistic beyond belief, but it was such a cute prompt I couldn't resist. Just some brotherly fluff.


"West."

Germany sighed. "What is it, Prussia."

"Tell me again why the _hell_…" the former nation held up two dusty teacups, one in each hand, like they were two pieces of soiled linen. "…I have to help you with these damn things again."

Germany furrowed his brow and handed more delicate china down to his brother from on top of the stepstool. All of the fine white pieces had unfortunately gathered a thick layer of dust during their time on top of some of the many bookshelves in the German brothers' home—normally Germany would never be so careless with anything he owned, but the tea set was old and neither of them ever had any occasion to use it. Except, of course, for times like this.

"Because England is visiting this afternoon, and seeing as they were a gift from him, albeit an old one, it would be impolite to make it seem as though we don't appreciate them."

"But we don't even use them," Prussia pointed out, setting each piece down on the table to be cleaned as they were given to him. "Neither of us ever drinks tea anyway. Prissy bastard shouldn't be getting his panties in a bunch over it."

Germany let out another sigh, a little more frustrated than the last. His brother only had three modes in daily life: "complaining," "praise-me-I-am-awesome," and "threaten-with-military-violence." It seemed right now he was in the former.

"Prussia, can you please just help me with this?" he asked, fighting the urge to massage his temples and handing down the last of the china pieces. "We still have a lot of cleaning to do in the rest of the house, and I need your help if I'm going to get it all done in time."

He braced himself for more complaining, but was instead met with silence. Stepping down off the stool, Germany turned to face his brother, but found first surprise and then Prussia's trademark grin on the pale face.

"Well, shit, West, why didn't you say you needed me?" he laughed, his grating voice turning unexpectedly happy. "Of course your awesome brother will help you! What are big brothers for anyway?"

Germany blinked. "Uh, y-yes," he nodded, picking up two soft pieces of cloth and handing one to his suddenly eager workmate. "Anyway, we'll wipe the dust off of them first, and then I'll wash a few so we can drink out of them. Just be gentle when you're cleaning."

"Yeah, sure, I got this," Prussia grabbed the cloth and a cup and enthusiastically, methodically started polishing, humming to himself contentedly. The two worked in silence for a few minutes, Prussia oddly joyful about the whole matter, and Germany perplexed but very relieved at his brother's turn in mood. Finally, the silence was broken when a rough but quiet chuckle from Prussia made Germany turn from his work. The larger man only grew even more confused when he saw Prussia was holding up and laughing at, of all things, a teapot.

Before he could ask what was so funny, though, Prussia was more than happy to fill him in.

"Hey West," he continued chuckling to himself. "You remember when you were really little and I taught you how to do the 'I'm a little teapot' dance?"

Germany almost dropped the cup he was holding. He stared at the former nation next to him, slack-jawed in a mix of surprise, confusion, and more than a little embarrassment.

"I…you…remember that?" He asked, with a little trepidation. Prussia only laughed louder, looking quite pleased at his younger brother's reaction.

"Of course I do, West!" He held the teapot almost fondly. "Man, you were such a pain in the ass. I tried to teach it to you a couple times, but you just kept looking at me all nervous and shit with those big blue eyes. You kept asking if there was a book you could read on it. I finally had to just draw you up some pictures and write down some instructions before I got you to do it."

Germany started to grow red as his brother recounted, remembering it all too well.

_His big brother pointed at the scribbled stick figures and lettering on the parchment. _

_ "See, Lutz?" he explained, grinning. "This awesome big strong hunk right here is _

_me—" (he put his finger on the taller stick figure, with one hand on its hip and the other arm bent at the elbow with the wrist flicked downwards) "—and that cute little awesome one right here is you—" (the smaller stick figure was imitating the bigger one) "—and that right there is what you say when you do it!" _

_ The words to the song were written in angular letters above the two. Ludwig read them aloud dutifully:_

_ "I'm a little teapot, short and stout," he rehearsed, "here is my handle, here is my spout." He looked up at Prussia. "But brother, we're not teapots!"_

Prussia let out a raucous laugh, and Germany turned away in embarrassment.

"'_But we're not teapots!'_ That's what you said," he giggled to himself. "You were so damn literal, even back then! Ah, it was so cute." His shoulders shook up and down as he continued laughing and recounting the story.

_"Of course we're not, you're supposed to pretend!" Prussia looked at him incredulously. "Come on, it's fun! Here, I'll even do the dance with you, so you can see how to do it."_

_ Ludwig blinked his big blue eyes and looked somewhat relieved. "You'll do it too, brother?"_

_ "Yeah, sure, 'course I will!" Prussia grinned, but then quickly changed his expression to one of alarm. "But don't tell anyone! Cuz, uh, you're the only one that gets to see something as awesome as me doing the Teapot Dance." He laughed again, trying not to imagine how all the other countries would react if they saw the great and powerful Prussia doing something so childish and silly. His pride would never recover._

_ "Alright, repeat after me," he began. Ludwig stared dutifully at him as if he were trying to memorize something very important. Prussia cleared his throat, and Ludwig did too._

_ "I'm a little teapot, short and stout," Prussia's rough voice recited in a little singsong. "Here is my handle—" he put his hand on his hip, "—here is my spout!" He bent his elbow and flicked his wrist down, then looked at his little brother expectantly._

_ Ludwig nodded, then puffed out his little chest and imitated his brother like he was taking a test._

_ "I'm a little teapot. Short and stout," he recited stiffly. "Here is my handle—" (he planted his little fist on his hip) "—here is my spout!" His arm went up, and he carefully bent it into shape to match his brother, then looked up at Prussia for evaluation. "Like this?"_

_ Prussia chuckled to himself at how seriously the kid was taking it. "Yeah, good," he said, and Ludwig smiled brightly. "Alright, now for the next part—"_

"…And then when I showed you the part where you tip over, you nearly fell over when you tried to do it the first time!" Prussia was by now roaring with laughter, still holding the teapot, when Germany had resumed methodically polishing the teacups, trying to collect himself despite his embarrassment. The story hadn't been brought up in many, many years—perhaps never after it had actually happened—and he had been fine to keep it that way. He was an actual nation now. He had to retain some semblance of dignity. But Prussia just kept blathering on.

"I had to show you a few times before you finally loosened up a little and just had fun with it," the older one continued, still holding the teapot with an odd, almost nostalgic regard. "'Course, you still looked like you were trying to impress somebody when you did it, but I did eventually get you to stop sounding like you were a soldier." He giggled silently to himself again.

"And then once you'd gotten it, you went around doing it all the time, too," he recounted, laughing louder and louder as he spoke. "You'd come up to me looking all excited to show me something, and you'd go 'Brother!' And when I'd ask you what it was, you'd start doing the dance in front of me again, no matter where we were or what I was doing!" He let out a particularly loud laugh, and reached up to wipe a little tear from his eye. His stomach was starting to hurt.

"It was pretty damn annoying, actually," he continued. "Whenever I was trying to figure out a new strategy or stressed out over war or economy or whatever you'd still be trying to do it for me. Hehehe. You were really something else as a kid, West."

Prussia let out a contented sigh, but Germany was still silent next to him. Prussia turned to glare at him.

"West!" he barked. "You listening to me?"

For a moment, Germany's eyes remained on his work and he said nothing. Prussia was about to turn angrily back to his own or maybe storm out (he hated being ignored) when his little brother finally cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You never told me to stop doing it," he mumbled, his low, rumbling voice sounding surprisingly timid. Prussia grinned even wider than usual.

"Of course not," he said. "You were so damn cute I just couldn't!" His shoulders shook with nearly silent laughter again, and he finally took his cloth and ran it over the surface of the teapot. A big blotch of grey rubbed off on the cloth when he lifted it up. It really had been a long time since either of them had paid it any attention. Prussia sighed a little.

"Kinda miss when you were cute like that," he muttered despite himself, not intending West to pay it any mind. "I miss being your big brother."

"You still are." Germany's face was a little red still from the embarrassing memory, and he didn't look up from the teacup in his hand, but he still murmured a response. Prussia gave him a startled look, and Germany cleared his throat again, a little uncomfortable.

"You should really try and work a little faster," the younger brother said, more clearly. "Like I said, I can't do all this alone."

Prussia grinned and threw off a nonchalant "sure thing, West" before resuming his efficient polishing. A few seconds later, the dish was shining almost good as new, and Prussia set it down. It didn't look half bad, he thought.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to dust off the old things every now and again after all.


End file.
